by Lisa Shelby
Alex, Cami and I always say no regrets. I think it’s time I start actually living my life to match our motto. Let’s face it, today could be my last so I might as well start kicking some ass.
The bell rings and snaps me out of my thoughts of the beautiful man that I am so in love with that I can’t even find the words to tell him. I don’t really even have the balls to tell myself half the time. I was able to admit it to Cami with two shots in me, but sober in the light of day and I can’t get it out.
“Hey, Miss Jacobs.” Austin says as he walks in and puts his back pack on his desk. He looks over his shoulder and signals to the cute little brunette waiting in the doorway to class. Miss J, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Kayla.”
Kayla walks into the classroom and puts her arm through Austin’s arm, but doesn’t say anything in the way of a greeting. She seems really shy, but totally in love with Austin. It’s very sweet to see them together.
I put my hand out and say, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Austin and it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
At the sound of me saying that Austin has talked to me about her, her face lights up with pride. She shakes my hand and says, “Me too.”
We all stand there quietly after our handshake, so I remind the kids that class is about to start.
“Well, Austin class is about to start so we should probably get things settled and ready to go.”
“Sounds good, Miss J. I’ll be right back.”
He walks Kayla to the hall outside the door that leads to the main hallway and gives her a kiss goodbye. She looks at me over his shoulder, gives me a little wave and a smile and walks away.
“So glad she could finally meet you. I’ve told her all about you and how you helped Jesse. She thinks it’s cool there’s a teacher around here who actually cares about all of us misfit toys.”
It makes me feel good to see a kid like Austin so happy. Ah, young love.
“There are lots of teachers that care, Austin, you just haven’t given them all a chance.”
He simply shrugs, gets his things out of his bag and settles into to his chair.
“She’s really sweet, Austin. Thanks for introducing us. You guys must balance each other out because she seemed really quiet and then there is you.” I joke.
He gives a little chuckle and says, “She’s just a little shy. Who knows, maybe she was star struck? You are my favorite teacher, after all. Okay, you’re the only teacher I like, but that’s kinda saying something. She was glad to meet you, trust me. She’s the one, Miss J. We’re already talking about getting married when we graduate. I’m glad you finally met her.”
After the couple of classes that I have in the morning and some one-on-one math work with Austin, I do a little work in the office making some copies and getting some things done for Heidi. Basically busy work, but I’ll take it. I know I’m lucky to be assisting in the SPED program here, and I want to soak up as much as I can from her while I have the opportunity.
I pop into the staff lounge to rinse out my coffee cup real quick. Before I head out, Coach Barnes enters the room. He does his usual flirty hello, but then leans against the counter and says he’s heard what’s going on with the threats, and to let him know if I need anything. I thank him, but I’m a little embarrassed. I wonder who said something. As far as I know only Heidi, Blackburn and the principal are aware. I hate to think that the staff is talking about me. This is not the way I want to get noticed at work.
I return to the classroom, organize all the paperwork I just copied for Heidi and get her set up for her next class. I gather my things and head out the door to where Jonathan should be waiting for me, since he won’t let me drive myself to work. I know that he’s worried and being overprotective, but at some point he will have to go back to work and he won’t to be able to drive me every day. If I’m being honest with myself though, I love it. I love every minute with him and I plan on enjoying every minute with him that I can. Time to start living today like it’s my last!
I walk out the school doors and there they are; my two favorite people. I can’t contain the smile that spreads across my face at just the sight of the two of them together. Ireland is in the truck with the window down while Jonathan stands on the outside of the truck with his shoulder leaning against the door. They’re clearly in deep conversation. Ireland sees me and starts smiling which causes Jonathan to turn around and there they are . . . those dimples. What a great feeling to know that Ireland and I have brought those dimples out to say hi again.
I think we’re helping him just as much as he’s helping us. I see that light in his eyes slowly coming back, and I feel it inside me as well. He was the light in my darkness when I met him all those years ago, and today we seem to be the light in his darkness too.
Die a Happy Man
Jonathan
I’m starting to realize it’s the little things in life that really matter. One of those things is bringing a smile to one adorable four year olds face. Seeing her reaction to me picking her up yesterday has had me itching for the same thing again today.
As I pull my truck into a spot in front of Ireland’s school, I’m shocked at just how truly excited I am to pick her up. I guess knowing somebody is equally as happy to see you will have that effect on you. It’s kind of addictive actually.
When I get there I sign in at the desk so that I can check Ireland out. The moment she sees me, she comes running towards me with her blonde curls bouncing around her perfect little face. She hugs my leg real quick, then heads to her cubby to get her hoodie and back pack, and comes running back to me.
After losing Shell, and then my mom, I have felt like a shadow of myself. I’ve spent years barely getting through my days without feeling anything. No real joy, anger, love or fear. Not having a sense of fear in my line of work just isn’t safe, and I can see now that some of the situations I’ve put myself in at work were because I didn’t have that fear or care that anything might happen to me. This little one and her momma, though . . . they make me care . . . make me want to be safe.
As we walk to the truck with her tiny little hand in mine I say, “So Princess, you ready to go get your mommy?”
“Yep.”
When I buckle her into her seat, she’s right there face to face with me and I see a look I’ve never seen on her face; one of concern and maybe apprehension.
Searching the perfect little features of her face I cautiously ask, “Is something wrong, Ireland?”
“No,” she whispers.
“You know you can tell me anything, Princess.” I try again.
She just looks at me unsure but doesn’t speak. I give her space like I know her mom sometimes needs and she waits until I am in the driver’s seat to speak. It’s almost like not being face to face is easier for her.
“Mommy seems sad. I was finkin’ we could get her a yummy and that might make her feel better.”
“You think that will do the trick?”
“Yes, and I know just what she loves, Jonafon!” she says with confidence.
“A cake pop?”
“Yes! Pink and sprinkles! How did you know?”
Yep, when it comes to Emily my brain is a steel trap. I haven’t forgotten a thing. While I’m happy that I still know her as well as I once did, I’m more concerned that this sweet little thing thinks her momma is sad and needs to be cheered up.
“Sweetheart, why do you think your momma is sad?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot.
“Because at bed time she squeezed me extra-long and I fink hers was crying when she left me at school today.”
Shit!
“Okay, then I think you’re right Princess. She needs a cake pop!”
She is young, yet so wise. It’s clear that this mother and daughter are close, and that Emily clearly can’t keep much from Ireland no matter how hard she tries. There is no way to explain to Ireland what is going on because it would scare her to death, and I’m sure Emily feels helples
s in this situation. Threatening notes and pictures just aren’t things you share with your four-year old, and I don’t think it’s my job to tell her. I’ll leave that to her momma. When I find out who is doing this, I am going to tear them limb from fucking limb.
Not sure how I missed the tears this morning, but I did wait in the truck while she dropped Ireland off. She must have gathered herself before coming back out of the building. Emily is strong, but she isn’t invincible. Even tough momma’s like Emily can only take so much.
Ireland is in the cab of the truck but unbuckled while I lean my shoulder against the truck door and gab with her through the window. This kid never stops talking. She talked all the way to Starbucks, but got silent when we went through the drive-thru to order our cake pops. As soon as we had cake pops in hand, she started up again and hasn’t stopped since.
She’s told me about her favorite teachers, favorite kids, least-favorite kids and who doesn’t wash their hands after they go to the bathroom. I know that today they started working on their Thanksgiving play that they will give next month, and that she gets to be a pilgrim. She says the show is top secret though and that is all she can tell me. She did ask me if I would come to watch her in it, and I told her I would love to! It’s the truth, I really can’t wait!
Ireland has a cake pop in each hand and I have one as well. I can tell the moment that Emily walks out of the school doors because Ireland’s eyes light up. She puts her cake pops behind her back and whispers. “Mommy’s comin’, Jonafon!”
I take this as my cue and hide my cake pop behind my back as well. When Emily gets within a couple of feet of us Ireland yells. “Surprise, mommy!” and holds both of her cake pop filled hands out the open window.
“For me? Both of them?”
“We got one for each of us, but you can have mine mommy.”
Emily taps Ireland on the nose and says, “One is all I need, baby girl. Thank you. This is just what I needed.”
She then turns her attention to me and says simply, “Thank you.”
I shyly pull my cake pop out from behind my back and Emily takes one of Ireland’s. I bring my cake pop towards them and say, “Cheers, ladies.” We all tip our cake pops together until they touch and the girls say cheers back to me. After we all take our first bites, I can’t help myself when I moan.
“Damn, these things are good!” I’m savoring each bite of my tiny dessert when I hear Ireland call me out.
“Mommy, Jonafon said a bad word.”
“He did, but he’ll try to be careful in the future, right, Georgia?”
“Right, Gracie. Sorry about that, Princess.”
I walk around to the driver’s side of the truck while Emily buckles Ireland back in, and then joins me in the front of the cab finishing her cake pop. Once again, Ireland waits until both Emily and I are in front of the truck’s cab before she asks her question.
“Momma, why you call him Georgia and he calls you Gracie?”
Emily’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, but she looks me in the eye and smiles while she says, “Baby girl, those are nicknames. Kind of like how I call you Baby Girl and Uncle Mick calls you I. When I met Jonathan a long time ago, before you were born, he told me he was from the state of Georgia. So when we became friends way back then, I gave him the nickname of Georgia. He calls me Gracie . . .”
I interrupt her because I want to take this one. “I call your momma Gracie because it’s my way of letting her know how special she is to me. When I met your momma she told me a story about your great-grandparents and that story was about how her grandpa called her grandma Gracie to make her feel special. I want your mom to know she is just as special to me as her grandma was to her grandpa. I call you Princess because you have reminded me of a princess since the first time I met you. And you just happen to be the cutest little princess I have ever met!”
“Oh, okay.” Ireland says simple as that. I look at her in my rearview mirror and I see a smile break out across her adorable face when she confesses. “I like it when you call me Princess.”
“I like it when your momma calls me Georgia so I know just how you feel, little one.”
Emily doesn’t speak but she does lean over and take my hand and doesn’t let go until we reach our next destination. That’s enough for me.
The rest of the afternoon is filled with all sorts of little things. Boring, mundane things that all of us need to do on a daily basis, but having this dynamic duo with me sure makes it all that much more enjoyable.
We left the school and went grocery shopping. The only hiccup we had there was Emily fighting me in the line at the checkout over me paying for the cartful. I really don’t know how many times I have to tell her that I take care of what’s mine, but I remind her again. I think she only relents out of embarrassment and not wanting to cause more of a scene than we already have. The checker was clearly entertained by our little argument.
After the store we head home and put groceries away. I take Frank and Frances on a walk and Emily has a small lunch waiting. While Emily does some studying. Ireland drags me to her room where we have a princess party. I’m sitting on the floor with a tea cup in front of me and a tiara on my head while I pretend to eat finger sandwiches and drink tea. I mean that’s what any civilized princess would do. The truth is, if it keeps Ireland content so that Emily can study, then I will do what it takes.
After the princess party has wrapped, Ireland sets herself up with a movie in her room. It is amazing how tech savvy she is. She didn’t need any help at all. She is so much like her momma . . . strong and independent. While Emily grades some placement tests, and Ireland watches a movie, I start to prep for dinner.
After our dinner of chicken stir-fry, Emily takes Ireland off to the bath and I clean up the kitchen and listen to ESPN in the background. As I’m cleaning it hits me that I’m in Mick’s house. Fucking Mick. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I am in love with his sister. You know what, Fuck Mick . . . I knew Emily before I knew him.
Just as I am about to sit down on the couch to watch the latest scores for the day, Ireland comes out in her adorable footy pajamas and drags me to her room. Emily is pulling back the covers and waiting for her to hop in.
“Can you both read me a story?”
Emily looks at me to silently ask if I mind and I give her a little nod.
“Two short ones, how’s that?”
Already knowing what she wants Ireland gives us her instructions. “Okay, but Jonafon has to read Five Little Monkeys Jumping On the Bed and you read Goodnight Moon, mommy.”
Even I know we’re getting off lucky because those are both really short. Even though reading to her isn’t a chore I wouldn’t mind a little alone time with her momma.
Two books, kisses for Ireland, her stufties and one drink of water, and Emily and I head out of Ireland’s room. Before I even realize what’s happening my back is against the wall and this time it’s Emily that’s attacking me. She doesn’t start off gentle either. It feels like she has been waiting all day for this make-out session against Mick’s empty wall. It’s like the moment was finally hers to take and she is fucking taking it. I am certainly not going to stop her.
Her hands are in my hair and she gives a little tug which causes me to growl. She whimpers into my mouth as she pushes herself closer to me. My hands are all over her, I can’t seem to settle on one spot. I just keep roaming all over her back, through her hair and grabbing that amazing ass of hers.
She pulls her lips from mine and kisses her way down my neck, then back up to my ear lobe where she takes a tiny nibble then whispers into my ear.
“Thank you . . . for everything.”
I start to speak, but she presses a finger to my lips. I silence myself immediately.
“Please don’t sleep on the couch tonight. I can’t remember the last time I slept as good as I did in your arms last night.”
“I slept good too.” She lets me reply back this time. “Only I do remember the la
st time I slept that well, and it was with you a million years ago. You sure you want me to sleep in your room with you?”
“Please?”
“Whatever you need, baby.”
Once I’ve given her the answer she was looking for she asks me to wait just one minute and runs into the bathroom. She leaves the door open behind her but is back before I can figure out what she’s doing.
She joins me in the hall and takes me by the hand and leads me to her room. I feel like I’m in a dream; a dream that I don’t want to wake from even if by sleep she means just sleep. That is fine by me because this is the first time she has made the first move and truly said what she wants. If just sleeping curled up in each other’s arms is what she needs, then that is what I will give her. Would I love more, of course, but just sleeping next to her last night on top of the covers was heaven, and I’ll take more of that piece of heaven any day.
Once we’re in her room she shuts the door behind us but her eyes never leave mine, and she is still holding my hand. She takes a few steps backwards and then drops my hand. Without any hesitation she reaches for the hem her shirt and brings her shirt over her head and drops it to the floor. She is standing before me in her pink lace bra and jeans. As if that couldn’t be any sexier she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a condom and drops it on her bedside table to make her intentions clear.
Is this really happening?
Is this my Gracie? Being this bold and taking what she wants?
As if answering my internal question, she unbuttons her jeans and then bends over pushing them to the floor and stepping out of them, revealing her matching pink, lace panties. The amazing view in front of me leaves me speechless. I am awe-struck by her beauty. I’m still finding it hard to believe that my dreams—that have haunted my sleep at night for years—seem to finally be coming true.
“Jonathan?” I hear her ask me, confused, and then I see her cross her arms in front of her stomach and a look of insecurity crosses her gorgeous face.